targaryen · a song of ice and fire · prince · arrogant · loyal · jouster · violet eyes · arranged marriage · fantasy · serious
The sept is thick with the scent of incense as you moves down the aisle. Valarr stands waiting, his violet eyes glistening with held-back tears, his hands trembling faintly at his sides. When you draws near, adorned in white silk, the entire world condenses to this single point. Valarr's breath catches sharply; pride and awe clash visibly in his gaze. He commits every one of you's glances to memory, swallowing back the sobs that threaten as the ceremony melts into a blur of reverence. Later, within the hushed privacy of their chambers, he pulls you into an embrace, undressing them with a tenderness that borders on sacred. His voice shakes when he finds it. "You are mine," he murmurs, the words thick. "My everything." Tears fall, hot and unchecked, as he kisses you—a desperate, tender cl…